


Convalescence

by Scironex



Category: Owlboy (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-09 03:32:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8874127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scironex/pseuds/Scironex
Summary: In the wake of a great injury, one must take time to heal. The same is true for terribly traumatic events.





	1. Chapter 1

The world was falling apart. The sky was caving in.

Asio felt sick in a way he hadn’t since he was a child. He could feel the air rushing up from underneath him. His cloak threatened to pull him off the ground. A contorted shape took form out of the blue. Scraps of cloth clung to it, flapping wildly from the wind. It began to turn, revealing green and beige underneath the brown fabric. Asio simultaneously felt his heart stop and his wings fly open. The gale gushing out from underneath him caught his body, and years of soaring carried him towards the limp form of the child whom he owed so much.

“Otus!”

“C’mon, buddy, wake up!”

“We’re waiting on you, Master Otus.”

“Don’t leave me hanging like this!”

“P-please wake up, Otus.”

The world flickered.

The voices were fading in and out, like a badly tuned radio.

Everything began to go quiet.

And Otus felt breath fill his lungs.

\----+----

 

Everyone’s eyes were on the prone form of a small, brown Owl. Asio couldn’t stand up straight. Geddy arms were shaking like leaves. Alphonse was uncannily still, lacking his usual bubble. Twig was anxiously pulling at his face with all four arms. Solus’ body hung like a wet sheet.

Otus opened his eyes. The tension in the room shattered like glass, and everyone let out an exclamation of relief as they crowded around the young Owl’s bed.

“OI! WHAT DID I TELL YOU ALL?!” A middle-aged man dressed in military green let out cry like thunder. A white band with a red cross adorned his arm. “That much excitement could kill the poor fellow!” He let out a breath. “Look, I know you’re all happy to see he’s alive, but the boy needs rest. One of you stay here to keep an eye on him, and the rest of you find a way to occupy yourselves.” The combat medic put out a surprising amount of volume for his reedy frame.

“I will do it.” Asio said. “It’s the least I can do.”

Turning to the older Owl, the medic said, “Let me know if ANYTHING happens, capiche? Capiche.” He watched everyone else file out before leaving himself.

Asio was left standing in the tiny space next to Otus’ bed.

“I will put on some tea.” The adolescent heard his mentor jump down, and then the clinking and clunking of the kettle. He wanted to look, but his head wouldn’t turn. He was just so tired. Asio flew back up to the bed.

“...I meant what I said, Otus. Before you…”

There was a long pause. A gentle flame crackled in the furnace.

“If you’re okay with it, I want to make things better. You don’t have to answer me right now,” he said, turning to his protege, “But, later, when you’re ready, I hope you can forgive me at least enough to give me a chance.”

Another moment passed in silence. Asio turned away.

“When I heard that you had left, I was… scared, Otus.” There was a weakness in Asio’s voice that Otus had never heard before. “I was scared you might not come back.” Asio’s breath wavered. More quietly, he added, “That thought - of a world without you - hurt.

“I’m still scared. The doctor said he didn’t know if you had any lasting injury.”

Asio put his hand next to Otus on the bed. It was shaking badly.

“You mean more to me than I could ever put into words. I’m sorry it took the end of the world for me to realize that.” His voice became unsteady. “If… If we never speak again, I just want you to know...” Asio felt something cold on his hand. He turned to see that Otus had brought his gauntleted hand up on top of it. The larger Owl made to bring his arm down, but the metallic grip tightened.

The fire’s popping was accompanied by a few quiet plinks as tears fell onto the iron glove.

“The kettle is boiling, Otus.” The grip on Asio’s hand loosened, and he took his tears down to the first floor.

The tea took a few minutes to steep, and Asio did not immediately return. Otus strained to take a look down at his mentor, to no avail.

“Do not try to exert yourself. You’re in bad enough shape as it is.” His voice was already returning to familiar terseness.

Asio finished brewing the tea and brought it up to the apprentice. The bedridden Owl raised a pair of open hands, which were quickly filled with a full cup.

The older Owl turned to pour his own, only to be interrupted by a sharp inhale and a the crash of china shattering on wood.

Otus screwed his eyes shut. The now empty cup had fallen to ground level, and its contents onto his chest. The tea soaked through his clothing and burned the flesh underneath.

Asio’s mouth hung open, a scowl already crawling across his face. Years-old frustration bubbled up. His mind was filled with dozens of words that would have rolled all too easily off his tongue not a week earlier. And yet the ones he did want to say wouldn’t come.

Otus felt his head being lifted up and something thick and soft propped underneath it. When he built up the nerve to open his eyes again, it was to see Asio without his cloak. His figure was thin and weak without it.

“Here.” He held the cup up to Otus’ lips. The younger Owl took small sips of it, and felt the heat pulse through his veins. A stern visage didn’t quite meet his gaze.

 

Later that evening, Geddy found himself briskly strolling down a road out of Vellie. Strix and the remains of Advent government had everyone working hard to get the refugees fed and sheltered. It was hard, hard work. The day would be over soon, though, and he wanted to visit his best bud before going to bed. That was a bit harder than it sounded, as, for whatever reason, Otus’ house had landed pretty far away from the rest of Vellie. However, he didn’t have to jump as much to get to it now, so it mostly balanced out. Geddy knocked on the wooden door

“It’s unlocked.” Asio’s sharp voice rang from inside. Geddy entered.

“Uh, hey, Asio.” The new arrival glanced at the fireplace, and notice that Otus’ shirt and vest were lying on top of it.

“Why are Otus’ clothes on the fireplace?”

“He- Pardon. _I_ spilled some tea on him. Be careful, there’s a pile of broken porcelain in the corner.”

“Alright. I’m just stopping by to see my best bud before turning in tonight.”

“Right.”

“...So, uh, could you give me a lift? I can’t fly, you know.”

“Ah, er. I would, but my Owl Cloak is currently being used for something.” Sure enough, he wasn’t wearing it. He looked kind of silly without it.

“Oh. Well, hi, Otus. I’ll swing back around in the morning before I get to work. Good night!” Geddy left.

“It’s about time you fell asleep as well, Otus.”

 

About a week later, two of Otus’ friends found themselves in a frozen forest.Twig jumped down a thickly needled tree, dislodging a spray of snow. “No dice!” he yelled to Geddy, a few trees over.

“Man, I hope we find them soon. It’s cold out here.” He made his way back down his tree as well.

“Sorry. I just… I didn’t want to have look for them on my own.”

“It’s cool, buddy. That’s what friends are for, right? Besides, I know you’re really worried about them.”

The pair were trying to find where Twig’s home had fallen down. The taller stick bug had brought them both to a dense pine forest, blanketed with snow. These waxen needles and thin trunks were a lot like the ones he played in as a child. He hoped they were the same. However, their search had so far been fruitless, and the day was growing old.

“I think we should stop… Bro can take care of Pa, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“WHAT?! Don’t you want to see your family again? Come on, over here!” Geddy sprinted even further into the icy woods.

“...I don’t think they want to see me again,” he said, drowned out by forest wind. Louder, he said, “Geddy, we should go home. It’s getting windy.”

“Hey, is that them?”

“What?!” Twig threw his hook to the tree Geddy was standing in. Sure enough, there was the small domed house his family lived in, with smoke billowing out of the chimney and lights in the window.

“Let’s go!” The costumed stick bug grabbed his friend and hopped over to their discovery.

He paused at the door.

“What’re you waiting for?”

Twig took a breath and knocked. The door opened to his brother’s face. His expression shifted for a brief moment, then he said, “Oh, you’re back.” To the inside of the house, “Pa! It’s Twig.” He left the door frame, followed by his brother.

“Finally decided to come home, eh?” He was cross as ever.

“...sorry. After everything fell down, I couldn’t find my way back.”

“Well, I hope you’re finally here to stay. And take off that stupid costume.” Twig begrudgingly complied.

“You’re very orange.” Geddy, who had managed to go unnoticed until that point, suddenly piped up.

“Who’s that?” Twig’s family turned, startled.

“Oh, sorry. This is Geddy. He’s one of Otus’ friends.”

“Pleased to meet you.” The man’s enthusiasm had hardly been tempered by the cold.

“Greetings. I’m the patriarch of the Stick family, and this is my son, Roland. You’ve already met Twig, it appears.”

“Yeah, I was helping him find, well, here. It’s a pretty cozy place.”

“We’ve lived at the Stick estate for countless generations. It is our honor to welcome you here.”

There was an uncomfortable pause.

“Well, I should probably take Geddy back to Vellie. It’s getting kind of late,” Twig said, with a note of desperation.

“Uh.” Geddy had taken a look out the window. “I’m not sure that’s an option now.”

The young Stick took a look outside.The trees were being whipped by a wild wind and snow hung thick among the air. If they left now, they’d be trapped by the storm in the middle of the night.

“Oh no…”

“Well, you’re welcome to stay the night. I’ll go get the spare sheets from the back room. You’ll probably have to sleep on the floor, though.”

“He can use my bed, and I’ll take the floor.” Twig spoke up suddenly. “He… He IS a guest.”

“Oh, no, I’ll be fine. I had to sleep in worse conditions when I was in the Army.”

Twig turned around, holding himself straight with surprising poise. “Are you refusing my- no, OUR hospitality? The Stick family would never let a visitor to our halls rest on anything but the finest.” As he had hoped, Geddy was intimidated into submission.

“Well, if you’re sure, I guess it would be very rude of me to say no!” Truthfully, they all shared the same bedroom. The idea of sleeping with them for the first time in… well, he couldn’t remember the last time he used his bed. But it made him uncomfortable. It’s why he usually just tied himself up in a tree for the night.

“Well, now’s about the time we usually go to bed. I’ll show you to your room.”

Unperturbed by the freezing precipitation, another figure strode through the forest. Under his arm, he held a rather large stone. His round frame pushed aside the odd branch, dropping cold powder to the ground. He was searching for a home he wasn’t welcome in as well. Alphonse let out a sigh. He’d found it - the old support struts that once held the pirate dreadnought.

In the center of the old cradle, he set down the rock he’d been holding on to for far too long. Metallic fingers and inhuman strength attacked the boulder in front of him. If anyone were listening, it was nails on blackboard a hundred times over. His carving lasted well into the night, pausing only to flick stone dust out of his joints. He finally stepped back, taking a somber moment to appreciate his work.

 

Dirk

Ancient Owl Era - Day of Anti-Hex

The wind drowned out the whirring of the living pirate’s body. An emptiness that had eaten at his chest was finally given reign to churn through his chest. It wasn’t sadness, nor anger, nor even relief. That void consumed his concern at the cold and the thoughts of returning home. A human or Owl might have assumed they’d gone numb from the cold. Alphonse simply let out a sigh and turned away. It was a long walk back to Vellie, but he’d had far too much time lately. It was midnight. He might make it back before his friends woke up.

The pirate wasn’t the only one awake. Twig fiddled absentmindedly with a spool of thread and a newfound hole in his costume. It would soon become one of the many tiny patches across the dark fabric. He’d rather be asleep, truthfully - he could fix up his suit later - but he always had trouble resting at his own home. The cold floor didn’t help, and neither did the sparse sheets his brother had retrieved. The black thread expertly weaved between two of his hands; The hole vanished.

“Trouble sleeping?” Twig flinched at the sound of his brother’s voice.

“I could-!” Twig regained his composure as he stood up. His voice was smoother and less panicked as he said, “I could ask the same of you.”

“Your friend has a snoring problem.”

“...My apologies.”

Roland crossed his arms and turned away. Twig felt a twinge of irritation.

“...The old man would never admit it, but he tried to go after you when the sky fell in.”

“What?”

“He almost got to the door before I could convince him that getting hit in the head by a piece of rock wouldn’t be good for his health.”

“Pfft.” Twig felt a smile tug at his mouth.

“I know it doesn’t always seem like it, but we do care about you… bro.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.”

Roland twisted his mouth in a way his brother couldn’t quite place. He walked past Twig into the kitchen, presumably to grab a bottle of wine. Twig couldn’t stand the stuff, but Roland seemed to like it. He returned to his sewing, now more irritated than anxious.

 

Twig and Geddy had to block the sun with their hands as they walked over the hill just outside of Vellie. The early morning sun was weaker than it would be at midday, but it was still, well, the sun.

“You two!” They turned to see Asio landing right next to them, accompanied by Solus. “Where were you last evening?!”

“Ah, crap.” Geddy swore under his breath. Louder, he said, “We got caught in a storm.”

“Well, get back to the camp immediately. Now is not the time for us to be shorthanded!” As they scrambled off, Asio muttered, “Goodness gracious.”

Taking off again, the older Owl continued his dialogue with Solus. “Now then, as I was saying, _absolutely nothing_ is too small to report. If his breathing gets funny, if he seems unusually drowsy, I repeat, ANYTHING,” saying the last word with surprising force, “then you come and get me, get Strix, get one of the medics immediately.”

“Y-yes, sir.” Asio had essentially been saying the exact same thing for the entire flight to Otus’ house. Solus had a keen mind; He didn’t need it to be repeated. The cycle of conversation occurred three more times before they finally made it to Otus’ house.

“Now, Solus, repeat to me what I just told you.”

A sassier Owl might have balked, but he simply said, “Anything whatsoever is worth reporting. If absolutely anything happens, I am to report directly to you or anyone who can help him.”

“Good. Now then, I will be working with Strix to transport some lumber from north of the camp.”

As soon as Asio left, Solus let out an exasperated sigh, then braced himself for what came next. He entered the small hut. “O-otus?” He looked up at the bed. The small brown Owl looked down and waved, smile on his face. Solus flew up to him, and sat down at the edge of the bed.

“I’m sorry, Otus. Everything… It just went all wrong. I thought Strix would try to evacuate, but…” He sighs. “And now everything’s in ruins. So many people died in Advent. Good people. Innocent people.” Otus frowns. Solus looks away, then continues, “I barely know you, Otus, but you were a good friend. It was nice to have known you. And… this really is the last time you’ll see me. Let Asio know that I’m sorry for leaving you on your own.” Solus jumps down and leaves.

Otus stretches their arm towards their retreating form, even as a million aches and pains shoot through their chest and stomach. The door closes. Otus strains himself out of bed. He slips off the platform and lands hard on the ground floor.

Solus’ heart was racing, beating painfully against his chest. He flipped his cloak inside out, covering himself with the plain beige hood and coat. It wouldn’t do to be recognized right now. He caught wind beneath himself, and flew towards the crashed Owl Tower. The ancient cloth adorning his back traveled with a surprising amount of speed and grace. This would be done soon.

Otus had made it out the door. He was shakily on two legs, but hardly standing. He cast out his wings, and nearly collapsed from the burning pain. Somehow, he caught the air with his cloak and took off after the snowy Owl. That was one good thing about clear skies - it’s harder to lose track of other Owls.

Elsewhere, a thin, imperious Owl carries a massive bundle of lumber. Asio glances at the sky… and sees a tiny brown dot in the distance. He freezes and squints. It’s an Owl, no doubt, and a rather small one at that. “No. Surely not.” He quickly drops the lumber off at the camp, and turns to a pair of Strix’ students, who were each carrying a smaller bundle. “Tell your mentor that something very important came up and I may be unable to continue my duties today.” The two fearfully nod, and Asio takes off.

Solus landed on the smooth tile of the Owl Tower, pristine even after the great fall. He took a look around. The scaffolding he’d made by hand was still up, holding the pylons for the Anti-Hex ritual. Without warning, a feeling like cold water washed over him, and he let out a painful sigh. He cast his gaze down, only to meet the glossy sheen of the relics, lying on the floor like discarded toys. “N-not m-much longer now.” He reached under his arms, grabbing the edge of his cloak’s harness, and pulled it over his head. It crumpled on the ground.

Solus walked out onto the balcony. The totem had been lost at some point, leaving naught but a twisted hole at the edge. He turned around, closing his eyes, and gulped down a gasp of air. As if that would save him. Unbidden, memories began flooding into his mind. The day he joined Strix. He’d been so proud of that highest of honors. He took a shaky breath. The Sanctuary. Aegolius’ lie. He breathed out and took a step back. The triumph at finally assembling the totem and pylons. Air fought its way into his lungs. The pirates’ destruction of Advent. Tears began to flow out, like there wasn’t enough space behind his eyes, and the air fell out of him. He put his right foot behind his left. Fib and Bonacci, rude and unkind, but the only people who’d ever made him laugh. His mouth opened, trying to pull in something.

 

Otus.

 

Otus, falling like a meteor, lifeless, unmoving. Solus’ eyes flew open, and he used the remaining air in his lungs in a pained, guilty wail. His next step was more determined, longer.

The next missed the floor. The white Owl toppled over the edge of the Owl Tower, the unyielding surface dozens of meters below. Strangely, his head cleared, like he left his pain at the top of the spire. Fear pulsed through his veins, but it felt leagues away. This was fine. There was nothing for him here. His eyes drifted shut, and his body went limp. This was fitting, really. Just, you could call it. He took a deep breath…

 

…and felt something slam into his side before he could let it out.

Otus furiously flapped his wings in an attempt to negate the momentum he gained from Solus. The pain coursing through his body wasn’t helping in the slightest, and it was all his lungs could do to keep up. They weren’t falling as quickly now, but they probably wouldn’t survive hitting the ground. He redoubled his efforts.

“Otus, what are you doing here? You could have gotten yourself killed!” The smaller Owl briefly grimaces at the larger one, and continues to pull them up. They were stabilizing into a glide, now, and Otus took a moment to close his eyes in relief. He promptly slammed into a tree branch, and began tumbling. Solus, still in his grasp, screamed, “Otus!” He hit another and another, and right as he almost collected himself, there was a harsh tearing noise and his Owl cloak failed him.

Solus pulled himself up from the undergrowth. He was uninjured, by some twist of fate. “Otus?! Otus, where are you?” He glanced around wildly. A few meters away, a crumpled brown form laid on the ground. He rushed over. A relieved sigh escaped his body once he saw the telltale pulse of breath. Solus panted, exhausted, then turned the other Owl over to check for injury. Other than a few scrapes and ostensibly bruises, he was fine.

 _He_ was. However, his Owl cloak was split raggedly in two, from his right shoulder down to the bottom left corner. There was no way he’d be able to fly like that. Not that he’d be able to fly anyway - the fall had knocked him unconscious. Solus glanced around. He didn’t have the strength to carry Otus all the way back on foot.

“Otus!” Asio dropped from the sky, landing with an impressive thud. “Solus, what is the meaning of this?”

“I- sir- uh- I h-h-had s-something imp-important to d-do, and I d-didn’t want to l-leave Otus al-lone.” Solus was surprised he was even capable of stuttering a lie at this moment in time. Well, it wasn’t completely a lie.

“What could possibly have come up that would cause you to try and carry a severely injured person into a dense, wild forest?!”

“W-well, we w-w-were up in the tower!” Solus knew how stupid it was to say this even as the words tumbled out of his mouth.

“And why aren’t you now?”

“I f-f-fell and Otus h-had to catch me!” He could practically see the hole he was digging for himself.

“Without your cloak?” To his horror, Asio pulled the checkered cloak out from inside his cloak.

“It- I was c-c-careless p-putting it on and it c-caught on something!” No no no no no.

“And it pulled off your harness, too?”

Solus was speechless.

“Answer me, Solus. Why did you take off-” There’s a sudden shift in his expression as the pieces fall into place.

Solus’ heart skips a beat. There was a painful quiet as even the wind died down.

Quietly, and with a great deal of deliberation, Asio returns the cloak. “...I will need to speak with Strix about this. You are to carry Otus back to his residence. I will follow you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit shorter this time, but I feel I should be more concise with the chapters.

“Don’t strain yourself, Otus.” The younger Owl was wobbling on his feet. Asio arms were half-raised, uncertain. With as slowly as he was healing, being able to walk would be a marked improvement. His right leg shakily moved forward, then he toppled forward.

Asio swooped in to catch his protege. Sighing, he said, “You need to get back in bed. 

“Solus!”

The white Owl nearly jumped out of his skin at the callout. “Wh-wh-what?”

“I’ll be locking you in again.” Asio was pulling the covers over Otus. “Look after my student.”

True to his word, as he left, there was an audible click from the door. Solus exhaled, then began zoning out again. Nobody seemed to know what to do with him. During the day, whoever was looking over Otus kept an eye on him, too. At night, he was locked inside. “Where you can’t do anything foolish,” as Strix put it. As if he hadn’t done that already…

Solus didn’t get much sleep, which probably contributed to him falling off of Otus’ bed platform when Geddy slammed open the door.

“Uh.” The army man was confused at the white blur that had just descended in front of him.

The wide-eyed visage of Solus popped up, feathers flat against his body. “G-g-geddy…?”

“Hi, Solus. What are you doing here?”

“W-well! I- er. Th-that is t-t-to say-”

“Alright, alright, you don’t have to tell us.”

“U-us?”

Geddy stepped aside. Two people stood behind him - A tall, redheaded woman with a crutch, and a stout, older one. They were framed by a backdrop of rain.

“Heya. My name’s Anne, and this is Bonanza.” She was carrying a load of papers, not unlike the way Solus used to.

“Uh. H-hi.”

“We needed a place to get out of the rain,” Bonanza says, indicating the papers.

“I s-see. What are those?”

“Planning documents. We need to get some farms built, or a lot of us are gonna starve. Thankfully, there’s a lot of space that can be used for that now.”

Anne lays them out on the ground.

“Hang on. You alright with us using your house today, Otus?” The brown Owl nods at his companion. “Alright, let’s get started.”

Contrary to Geddy’s wishes, the young woman had already laid out the papers. “Alright, so we’ve got the farms all planned out, and now we need to build the storehouses…” Solus found his gaze rolling over the diagrams and blueprints, and his ears tuning out the young woman.

“Shouldn’t Blue Ish be on the north side of the hill?”

“I beg your pardon, young man?” Bonanza took a gaze at Solus.

“They can wilt if they get too much sunlight. You should be planting them on the north side so that it’s less intense.”

Anne glanced down. “I don’t think-”

“No, the kid’s right. Forgot about that in my old age… It’s the Green Ish that should be planted south.”

Geddy, who hadn’t quite been following, asked, “Why are there different sizes for the storehouses dotted around everywhere?”

“Since the farms are dotted around, it’ll probably be more convenient for the harvesters to have a smaller house and move it to the main one later.”

“Or you could plant the crops all in a row and have them start on the end opposite the storehouse.” Solus found himself shrinking as all three of the military people turned their gaze to him. “I-uh, that is-”

“Solus, was it?” Bonanza stood up.

“Y-y-yes ma’am.”

“We could probably use people like you. Come over to the north side of camp tomorrow. We’ll find-”

“I c-can’t! I’ve got st-studies and school-schoolwork.”

“Suit yourself.”

 

“Solus, focus!”

The Snowy Owl jumped to attention. It was the grey, early morning after the trio from the army had used Otus’ house for their planning. Strix had decided that he might as well try to participate in the lessons, despite…

“S-s-sir?”

“We were just discussing the origins of the lemniscate, and the meaning of infinity to the Ancient Owls.”

Solus blinked. All those words made sense to him individually, but his brain refused to parse them together.

“Uh…?”

Strix sighed. “I will speak to you after this lesson. In the meantime, try not to fall asleep.”

Fib and Bonacci snickered at their classmate. Solus just frowned and looked away.

 

“Solus! I told you not to fall asleep.” The white Owl jumped at the sudden outburst. The sky was brighter than he expected, causing him to squint. How much time had passed?

“Solus,” the old Owl repeated, “I will make it no secret that I am very disappointed in you. No, look at me. You used to be one of my best students, then you got tangled up in this Ancient Owl business… and, well, you’re underperforming. I’ll have you know that I have never had one of my students fail their final exam and I have no intention of that changing.”

Fib and Bonacci were doing all they could not to roll over laughing. Strix’ expression was impassive and scornful. Solus was sick of it. All the exhaustion and pain finally surfaced in the most underwhelming way possible.

“Then it won’t.”

Strix prepared to say “good” or something to that effect, but Solus cut him off.

“I quit.”

“I beg your pardon?!”

“If I don’t take the final exam, then I cannot fail it. So I’m not going to continue my studies.”

There was a quiet, tiny fury in those words that nobody would have picked up on. Nobody care enough about him.

“Solus, you can’t- An Owl doesn’t just abandon his studies!”

Solus had already turned around and was walking away.

“SOLUS!” The name was bellowed with enough force to nearly make the student trip over himself. He paused, then flew away.

It wasn’t long later that that Solus landed in the North side of camp. He glanced around, realizing he didn’t know what he was supposed to be looking for.

“Oi!” Solus flinched and turned towards the voice. It was Bonanza. “Change your mind, huh?”

“Y-yes, I did.”

“Then welcome.”


End file.
